


Face-Down, Arse-Up

by Poompoom



Category: Ghosts (TV 2019)
Genre: Gen, boris johnson is mentioned, i completely improvised this so forgive me, julian exposes his bum bum, the captain says some variation of 'good lord' more than once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:48:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25495600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poompoom/pseuds/Poompoom
Summary: Julian attempts to close a door. The Captain learns something new about himself.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 65





	Face-Down, Arse-Up

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, basically banged this one out in an hour. Enjoy.

Julian was making an elongated, exasperated groaning sound, the echoes of which bounced across the airy East Wing of Button House. Luckily, he was not recreating the moments leading up to his sticky end on the mortal realm, but in fact trying to push a door closed.

The rest of the ghosts watched through the doorway, tittering to themselves. The door was decidedly not yielding to Julian's touch. Well, it was creaking slowly, but, as Kitty mentioned to the rest of the group, it could have just been a draught. Fanny agreed that as much as she loved her ancestral home, it was full of them. 

The reason for Julian's attempt at showing off his spooky prowess was simple: he'd just sputtered his way through an argument and was trying to make a dramatic exit. All sense of power had quickly evaporated in the first few seconds. 

"Look," the Captain sneered, with an uncommon look of smugness on his face. "Can't win an argument and can't even close a bally door!"

The rest, grouped around him, chuckled in agreement. Robin's chuckle sounded like a gorilla having a seizure. Fanny's sounded rusty, as if she hadn't actually let out any sort of humorous exclamation in decades.

Julian tried to speak while continuing he wheezing, making his sentence sound like that of a constipated man on the toilet. "You...won... the... war...... now... you... think... you... c-can... win... anythin-OH, BLOODY HELL!" 

A minute lapse in concentration had caused Julian to lose his grip on the door and melt through it, landing on his face, his shirt flying askew and covering even less than it already did. The rest all grimaced and turned away. A much more well-oiled, disgusted shriek came from Fanny's direction. 

Thomas brought an elegant hand to his head, probably imagining himself collapsing on a chaise lounge. 

"I cannot witness any more of this- I must retreat!"

Some others had lost interest by now. Even if they missed something, most had learned by now that it would probably happen again in a few centuries. 

Slowly they cleared off, not noticing Julian remaining face-down, arse-up on the floor. That, was, except the Captain, revelling in his rival's humiliation. 

He then grew a little concerned. Julian had not actually moved much at all. Had he fainted? Could ghosts faint? Decades of being dead and the Captain had never noted it. 

Apprehensively, he reached out and prodded the politician's shoulder with his swagger stick, but quickly darted back when Julian groaned and rolled over. 

"Good Lord, Julian, you gave me a fright!"

He then noticed that Julian was now exposing something far worse than his bare bottom, and coughed nervously. 

"And cover up!" he hissed.

Julian groggily pulled his shirt down. 

"There's a good chap." A pause. "I thought you were dead, well, not dead, as such, but-"

"Got you."

The Captain then noticed that Julian's thin mouth was now sporting a snake-like smirk. His beady little eyes were open.

"Were you just pretending to have fainted to gain my sympathy?" the captain said in disbelief.

"Hah- yes! I heard, yes, on the radio, that the current man in power was losing the people's' confidence, so he said he had that poxy disease."

"You mean to say that Prime Minister Johnson was lying about being ill? Julian, I don't think a leader would do such a thing!"

"Fooled Alison and Mike." Julian eased back into his normal self, beginning to gesture wildly. "Didn't fool me. Yes, it's a very specific thing, you see, in the party. One does start to notice when another tells lies, well, because we all have to do it, and you notice the signs. In fact, there was once a conference in Dorchester, and the Minister at DoSaC, a funny chap, well, he-"

"I don't have time for another anecdote, Julian. You're too much of a storyteller and show-off." The Captain began to head off. 

"Me? A show off? I don't think so!" Julian cried defensively, straightening up and adjusting his tie, which had been askew. 

"Oh, you're so show-offy that you just had to have a superpower months after waltzing in here, so you can lord it up around me and the others!" The Captain was walking towards Julian, using his swagger stick to point at the politician. 

"Well, as Shakespeare did once say, some are born into greatness, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em. Now, I've often thought all three apply to me, and I've even died into greatness, so-"

The Captain had meant to throw his arms up in exasperation, but had forgotten about his grip on his swagger stick. He accidentally let go, and it sailed through the air, across the room, and completely shattered a large ornamental mirror leaning on a mantelpiece. 

Running over, the two of them gazed in shock at something neither had seen in years: their own reflections.

"Good Lord." the Captain gulped.


End file.
